


The Price I Pay

by headlessnicks



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:35:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26288845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headlessnicks/pseuds/headlessnicks
Summary: A look at what happened to Snape and Draco on the night of Dumbledore’s death.
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore/Severus Snape, Draco Malfoy/Severus Snape, Narcissa Black Malfoy/Severus Snape
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

It was done. 

Albus Dumbledore was dead.

The greatest wizard in the world was dead.

And Severus had killed him.

He could feel the darkness descending over him, enveloping him in a familiar embrace. All he felt was pain, in his hands, his feet, his head; it was everywhere. Severus wanted to reach down into his chest, and rip his heart out so that he could do anything but _feel_. He had killed the only man who had ever trusted him. The only man who knew who he really was, the only one who knew him capable to do good. If Severus had had any love left in him at all, it had vanished the moment he had uttered the despicable curse. The curse that had flung Dumbledore off the tower, like a broken doll. He hadn't seen the life leave Dumbledore's eyes, hadn't been brave enough to do it, but he had felt it. He was _feeling_ it. Was this how it felt to have your soul ripped apart? How had the Dark Lord done this over and over and over?

A searing pain in his arm made him fall to his knees. He wondered momentarily if someone had jinxed him with a severe stinging hex but the only one who had seen him was Potter. And he'd taken care of him. Potter, who was no older than Severus had been when he had taken the Dark Mark, had tried to use the Cruciatus curse on him only minutes ago. Saint Potter, who Dumbledore believed to be more powerful than the Dark Lord, had tried to use Severus' own cutting curse against him and failed. Potter, who he knew would be hurting over Dumbledore more than anyone else, had failed to stop him. He had wanted to hurt the boy, had wanted to let him feel the pain that he was carrying around inside him but something had stopped him. Some wild animal had rushed out at him, and coming to his senses Severus had run for the gates in fear of being captured. 

He disapparated as soon as he was outside the castle's protective bubble, and appeared on a hilltop, where he knew Malfoy and the remaining Death Eaters would be waiting.

The minute his feet touched the ground, he knew something was wrong. He had smelled the blood, and heard the yells before he had seen the horrifying sight before him. 

Draco was lying in a pool of blood, half of his chest had been cut open and on display to Greyback, who was being pulled back by Amycus Carrow. The werewolf's mouth was wide open, his dirty crooked teeth glinting as he howled and snarled away. 

"What the hell have you done?" Severus screamed, running towards Greyback and shoving him back with such force that both he and Amycus stumbled backwards before falling flat on their backs. Severus had had his wand out and he pointed it at the animal's face, silently daring him to move an inch from where he lay.

"No-wait-wait, the boy, he splinched himself, Snape-it wasn't Greyback!" Amycus was saying as he stood up hastily, glancing over to Draco.

"Poor Malfoy boy," jeered Greyback, baring his teeth in a twisted smile, "doesn't know how to kill, doesn't know how to apparate! Hah!"

"You watch him! He moves even a little and I'll kill him. He knows I'm good for it," Severus threatened, and Greyback cowed almost immediately. No doubt he believed Severus now, no Death Eater would ever dare to question his allegiance to the Dark Lord now, would they?

Severus approached Draco, dropping to his knees to inspect the boy's abdomen. It looked now as though someone had tried to cut through him with a butcher's knife. The boy was pale and shaking, his eyes were half-open as he whispered something under his breath.

"What is it, Draco?" he asked softly, leaning over his face to listen.

"I don't want to die, I don't want to die."

Severus reached out to grasp the sides of the boy's face and shook him lightly so that Draco was looking at him.

"Listen to me, Draco. I'm not going to let you die, I swore to your mother I would keep you safe and I don't plan on breaking that promise. Lay still and close your eyes, I'm going to fix this."

Draco gave no indication that he had heard a single word Severus had said. Turning to Amycus and Greyback, Severus told them to head to Malfoy Manor and give Narcissa a head's up about the situation at hand. 

"And make sure that beast is nowhere near when we return," he warned.

Nodding curtly, Amycus leaned down to take hold of Greyback's robes and the two disappeared from the hilltop.

Severus put a hand over Draco's face, covering his eyes as he muttered a gentle song-like spell until he felt the boy relax under him. Taking out his wand, he traced over Draco's chest where the scars from Potter hexing him was still visible and watched as the ripped flesh began to sew itself together. The stitches were anything but neat, but Severus would have plenty of time to redo them later once they were back in the safety of the manor. It wasn't as though he had a class to teach in the morning, anyway. He felt a tug at his chest to know that he wouldn't be returning to Hogwarts again, not unless the Dark Lord sent him there. Truthfully, Severus hoped he would never have to set foot there ever again. He didn't think he could ever look Minerva in the eyes again, or any one of the staff members for that matter. All of them had stood by him, they had trusted him because Dumbledore had trusted him. And tonight he had broken that trust. He was all alone, just like he had always destined to have been. 

In that moment, he harbored nothing but hatred for the boy convulsing under his touch. He wanted to let Draco die, wanted to kill him with his bare hands. It was because of Draco that Severus was now a pariah, that he wouldn't be able to return to his only home. Had Draco been brave enough to step up and kill the Headmaster, Severus wouldn't have to be here. Why did he have to pay for the mistakes of a seventeen year old boy? Was it worth it, he thought, to kill the only person close enough to a friend you had for a boy so weak he cannot even apparate? 

The gaping hole in Draco's chest had been temporarily sewn shut. Severus had placed a charm over Draco to numb the pain momentarily but it would be wearing off soon. He had to get the boy back to his home before it did, and had to do so without ripping the frail stitches. It was too big a risk to apparate with the boy, he didn't think Draco could live through any more splinches or loss of blood. If he died, then Severus would too, thanks to Narcissa's wonderful Unbreakable Vows. The only option left was for Severus to fly with the boy-but flying was a risk for many different reasons: One, it had been years since Severus had flown, fifteen years in fact, so he was afraid he wouldn't be able to do it as good as he had before. And two, the Ministry must have been alerted by now of Dumbledore's death and the manner of which he had been killed. Aurors would be out looking for him, and if they were to spot him with Draco, everything would be lost. Severus considered both risks, and ultimately decided flying was better than risk the boy dying through apparition. He could always fight if the Aurors caught up to him, he'd be able to hold them off.

Severus removed his cloak, and ripped the end of it before gingerly wrapping it around Draco's torso so that the wound was protected. He then lay the cloak over Draco's shivering figure.

"I'm going to lift you into the air in a minute, I want you to hold on to me tightly and don't let go no matter what happens. I need you to tell me you heard me, Draco."

The boy's shallow breathing was all he heard at first, and then a soft, "Yes, professor."

Still weak, a pair of hands wound themselves around Severus' chest as he lifted Draco to his feet. He fixed the cloak over Draco so that his face was partially hidden away, and with a snap of his fingers they had turned into a wisp of black, thick smoke. They were flying, gliding graciously through the air. Severus felt a feeling of peace and calm wash over him, as he looked below him where the London skyscrapers towered upwards majestically. He made sure to fly over the clouds so as to move undetected, and was fifteen minutes away from the Manor when the first jet of light flew past him. 

Cursing loudly, Severus moved his head just in time to avoid another spell. He saw a large figure on a broomstick, speeding up towards him. It was difficult to see, but Severus had a feeling he knew who it was. The shape of the figure's leg was odd–bulked in the middle but thin at the end as though he hadn't a foot at all. _Alastor Moody_ , Severus thought darkly. He was here to collect vengeance for Albus Dumbledore's death, then. Severus pummeled downwards, maneuvering around the buildings silently. In the night, it would be easy to mistake Severus as dark smoke but Moody on a flying broom wouldn't go unnoticed by anybody, even by the Muggles. He smiled smugly at how maddened Moody must be to have been given the slip by old Snape. 

Severus spotted a darkened alley and flew through it, stopping mid-way with a halt. His arms seemed to appear through the dark, floating cloud and then his legs followed by his entire body. Draco's grip on him had slackened and he rolled off, but Severus caught him sharply before he fell and leaned the boy against the wall. As he moved his hands away from him, he saw that his palms were matted with Draco's blood. The stitches must be coming loose, he swore. Bringing his wand up, Severus cast a Disillusionment Charm over the two of them and then the Muffliato spell so that no one would hear their heavy breathing in the dark. Severus could only wait here for about five minutes, and then he had to try and make it back to Malfoy Manor-whether with Moody on his tail or not. Draco was dying.

"Why?"

A soft voice had spoken.

Severus watched as Draco's eyes fluttered open in his direction.

"It's alright, we're almost there, Draco. Just wait a little while," Severus assured him, gripping Draco's arm but the boy pulled back, an expression of disgust on his face now.

"Don't touch me!" he spat.

"You're hurt, I understand. But don't worry, Draco, I will take you back to your mother...I promise."

"You killed him-you _killed_ Dumbledore-"

"You're upset because I did your job for you? You expected me to stand there and wait before you could pluck up your courage to do what the Dark Lord had ordered you to?" Severus snapped harshly, and the boy flinched.

"I didn't want to do it! I could have-but when I had my wand at his face I...I couldn't do it. I didn't want to do it."

Severus was quiet.

"Draco..."

"But you did it. You looked him in the eye...and you killed him!"

"Does that surprise you? Did you think me a coward like your Aunt Belle does?"

Draco swallowed, clenching his jaw in his discomfort.

"He begged you. He begged you not to and you did it anyway. I thought you were different-"

"-I am a servant of the Dark Lord. I do as he commands, and his command was to kill Albus Dumbledore should you fall short. And you did," Severus hissed under his breath.

"You know what I've decided tonight, _Professor_?" Draco asked with a pant.

When Severus did not speak, Draco continued.

"I'm not going to do anything _he_ asks. I'm done with all this. My father paid for his crimes in Azkaban, and I watched my mother pay for his mistakes and mine. I'm going to take her away from there and-"

"-and what, Draco? Will you run away from the Dark Lord? And how long do you expect to hide away from him-? A week, a month, a year?"

"As long as it takes! I won't...I won't turn into you!"

"Turn into me? And what am I exactly?"

"You're a monster," Draco said as-a-matter-of-factly, "you betrayed Dumbledore...who trusted you without hesitation. If you think I'm going to stand around and watch-watch myself become a monster like you, I won't."

There was a raging storm within Severus, and it took tremendous strength to keep that storm confined in his chest. The boy hadn't lied, he _was_ a monster. Dumbledore may have asked to be killed, but Severus had been the one who had accepted. The headmaster hadn't forced him, he had simply requested it of him. He should have turned it down, but he hadn't. He had promised to kill him, because he thought he was being noble at the time. _Saving a man from a humiliating death_ , that had been his excuse hadn't it?

"You are weak, Draco, you're barely alive even now. If you run away, he will hunt you down. He will kill your mother first, in front of you, and then your father and then after hours of torturing you into madness will he finally execute you. You know this is true, you have seen so many die before him so do not speak like a childish fool!"

Draco's tears were pouring out, and he sobbed like a child. Severus found he couldn't blame him, he had done the same when he had realized what he had done after kneeling before the Dark Lord and pledging his loyalty to him. He had gone back to Spinner's End and wept for weeks the first time he had seen the Dark Lord murder a mother and child for a reason none other than the fact that they were Muggles. As the boy in front of him shook uncontrollably, his chest heaving as he bawled, Severus grabbed him by the shoulders.

"You must be strong, Draco. You are all your mother has left, so you must survive. For her. You will be returned to her, and I will tell the Dark Lord that you had done so brilliantly into letting the Death Eaters enter the school undetected even by Dumbledore. I will tell him how you managed to Disarm him, and I will tell him how you would have killed him had I not taken that moment away from you. He will be angry, but it will not be you he punishes. If we are lucky, he may even reward you for your intelligence. You will thank him, and you will promise to serve him in any way you can. This, Draco, is how you will survive."

Draco nodded, wiping the snot from his nose. He looked absolutely exhausted, Severus realized. There was an ugly pallor in his skin, and more worry lines than any boy his age would have. He had dark circles under his eyes, it was proof of all the restless nights he had spent plotting Dumbledore's death. Underneath it all, Severus saw a child. A child who was afraid. 

"Promise me you will not plot an escape, Draco. Promise me I will not one day be summoned by the Dark Lord to kill you, you must promise me because I cannot bear it if I had to tell your mother you were dead."

"I p-promise."

Satisfied, he stood up. No one had come looking for them, he had to assume Moody had given up his search. He pulled Draco to his feet, and made sure the boy was stable.

Severus had estimated roughly fifteen minutes to reach Draco's home, but it only took five.


	2. Chapter 2

They were heading straight towards the window, and if he didn’t come to a halt anytime soon they would be crashing straight through it. He had been so preoccupied with the sky, searching for any signs of Aurors or Order members, that he had lost control of his magic. Severus willed his mind to stop but he was out of breath, out of focus and out of magic. He closed his eyes, and covered a hand over the pale, semi-conscious boy hanging beneath him to prevent any glass shards hurting him when the impact came. He had braced for it, but he needn’t have for it hadn’t come. Severus pushed through the tall glass as if it hadn't even been there. The shock of it took him by surprise, and the next he was stumbling into a wide and darkened room. Severus' feet emerged from the dark clouds that allowed him flight, and felt them plant firmly on the ground. But Draco had slipped from his grasp, and the two of them crashed onto what felt like smooth wooden flooring.

”Draco!” a woman screamed.

Severus lay there for a moment, catching his breath as he rolled on his back to stare up at a magnificent chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Beside him, he could see a figure kneeling next to Draco’s unmoving body. Severus was gripped with fear, and then the feeling passed as quickly as it had appeared.

Draco was alive, and he was sure of it. The confidence stemmed from the fact that he himself was still breathing. He had sworn the Unbreakable Vow, and if Draco had died he would have followed not soon after. He was alive, and that surely meant the boy was too. Severus decided he had done enough resting and sprang to his feet, ignoring another awful pain that shot through his arm.

”Move,” he growled, as he struggled to stand on his feet, “move, let me-“

He had taken a step towards Draco and his mother, and had fallen to his knees at a near enough distance to examine the boy. His hand pushed away a smaller pair as it splayed over Draco’s chest, emitting a hiss from Narcissa. She was angry, but Severus could deal with a mother’s fury later. Now...now, he had a much bigger task at hand.

”Get me dittany-and if you have one-a healer’s kit,” he ordered. He heard Narcissa shift to her feet and a moment later call for a house-elf.

Severus placed his hand directly over the boy’s chest and murmured a string of words over him, as though he were performing a ritual of some sort. Draco shuddered, but a second later his eyes fluttered open.

”Draco, Draco!” Narcissa wailed as she crashed next to him once more. She dare not touch him, not when Severus had so roughly pushed her hands away earlier. The elf appeared, clutching a midnight-blue bag under his arm.

”Mistress! Mistress, I have what you have asked for!” the elf said running towards her, the bag in the palm of his hands now. Severus snatched it (much to the elf’s dismay that he hadn’t been able to deliver it to his mistress) and quickly reached for the small, dark vial inside.

Pulling the cork open with his mouth, Severus forced Draco’s mouth open and downed its contents into him. He gagged at the taste of it, and his eyes gave a twitch before closing.

”What-Severus is he-?”

”He’s fine,” Severus exhaled with relief, “I’ve given him some dittany, it’ll help with the healing and remove any internal infections from the wound.”

And then when Narcissa looked at him with tearful eyes, he shook his head.

”He’s going to feel sick once he wakes but he will be alive, I promise,” Severus said.

Narcissa flung her arms around him then, and sobbed into his chest as Severus remained there, his knees digging into the hardwood floor of the living room. He could feel the wetness of her tears seeping through his clothes and onto his skin, and could not explain the tight knot in his chest.

”You saved him,” she muttered, her hand gripping his shoulder so tightly he knew it would leave a mark later.

”I’m not done quite yet,” he whispered and she broke away from him.

Severus picked up the bag that fallen from his hand when he had hurried to make Draco take the potion, and pulled out a silver tin box marked with a picture of a witch in a large , black hat holding a needle and thread. The label below it said ‘Healer’s Kit: For Emergencies Big and Small’.

Opening it, there was a small selection of needles lined up on the left side. On the right side of the box were brightly-colored patches. Severus reached for the second smallest needle, selecting it so casually as though it came as a second nature to him.

“I had to make the stitches in a haste earlier, so you must forgive what you are about to see. Will you be able to stomach it? Narcissa?” he asked, unhooking the clasp on the cloak that he had covered Draco with. She nodded, her eyes strained on her only child’s face.

He pulled open the fabric that separated Draco from the cold air in the room but he gave no reaction to it. The boy was as deep under as he could be, which was good given what he was about to do. The loose stitches he had made had come undone, and pieces of his flesh had been torn out. It was bad, he thought, but it hadn’t been as worse as he had expected it to be. Where his body had been bruised and bloody, it was now healing thanks to the dittany. Severus pulled his wand out, and pointed it to Draco’s chest.

”I am going to pull the stitches away and re-do them. This one (he brought up the needle he had chosen earlier so Narcissa could see) will make sure to hold the tear tight while leaving just a small scar. He won’t feel anything, the needle’s been bewitched,” Severus explained.

Narcissa nodded in approval. Severus took a breath and then magicked the loose stitches so that they began to unravel from Draco’s skin until there was nothing holding the splinched part of his chest together. He quickly brought the magic needle and began to make quick work of it. He had been brash earlier, but now that he was now in the safety of the Malfoys’ house, he made sure to make the new stitches as neatly as possible. There was no reason to scar the boy permanently, after all.

It took him seconds to do, and then he put the needle aside and grabbed a few of the patches and placed them along the long line of stitches over Draco’s skin.

”What-what is that?” Narcissa asked curiously. He noticed that she had stopped crying and was now watching him with an expression of utmost impressiveness.

”The patches have been dipped in various healing concoctions: they have drops of the Essence of Dittany, some Murtlap Essence and other healing ingredients. Healers use them on patients that have been wounded on-site and when they do not have time to bring them to the hospital. We won’t need to take him to St. Mungo’s, unless you want to of course-“

”Do we need to?” she asked, her eyes wandering to Draco’s left arm, where the Dark Mark stood dark and clear against his porcelain skin.

”No,” Severus said, knowing all too well what she was thinking, “we won’t need to. He just needs to rest.”

”Kreacher!” Narcissa called, and the house elf came running once more and bowed to her, his ugly rags hanging around him in such a way that made Severus snort. He recognized the elf, he’d seen him at Grimmauld’s Place. Well, heard him-more like. The elf hated everyone, present company included. The first time Severus had tried to poke around Black’s mother’s house, the elf had called him a half breed which, while true, was still insulting to hear.

”Take Draco to his room, and make sure he isn’t disturbed. He needs rest,” Narcissa commanded in a low voice and the elf obeyed. He snapped his fingers, and made Draco hover just a few inches off the floor and began to carry him upstairs. When the elf and Draco’s body had vanished from view, Severus turned his eyes back to Narcissa. She had been watching him, she still was.

”What?” he asked.

”You’re hurt,” she said pointedly, head tilting as she eyed his arm.

Severus brought it up to his eye level to examine and saw that she was right. His shirt sleeve had been ripped up to his shoulder and there was a deep gash. Severus hissed as he traced over the wound with his bloodstained fingers.

”Here, let me,” Narcissa said and before Severus could say anything, she had stood to her feet and lifted him to his with ease. She took his hand in hers, it was warm he noted, and led him towards the fireplace that had been roaring since the moment Severus and Draco had crashed into the room.

She gently pushed on his shoulder, and made him sit on one of the two armchairs by the fire. He voiced his hesitation but she wouldn’t hear of it.

”Narcissa,” he began but she placed a finger against his lips. She sat opposite him, and he saw she had the healer’s kit in her hand as she adjusted herself so she was an inch away from him.

”Tell me how,” she said.

”You don’t have to-I can do it on my own,” he argued.

”No, no you can’t. Severus, look at yourself! You’re exhausted and right now, Draco looks more alive than you. Stop being so stubborn and let me help you, you arrogant man!”

He had quieted at that. He realized that she was right, he _was_ exhausted. He felt as though he had been drained from magic, every part of him squeezed out and used up until there was nothing but a breath left in him.

 _Killing a man will do that to you,_ said a voice in his mind. He was inclined to agree.

”Severus? How do I-?”

“I think we’ll have to snip away the sleeve first, and then clean the wound. I have to look at how bad it is and whether or not I will need stitches.”

He watched as Narcissa summoned a gleaming silver scissor from somewhere, and began to cut away at his left arm sleeve until his shoulder. The fabric fell away until she was staring down at his pale, scrawny arm. She turned it towards her so that she could look at the wound carefully.

”Will you tell me what happened?” she asked as she magicked a small bottle of clear liquid.

”I-agh-I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re asking,” he said simply.

She poured the liquid over his arm and he gasped in pain again, clenching his teeth as an attempt to cover the fact that he was hurting.

”I _mean_ , what happened tonight at the school? All I heard was that Albus Dumbledore was dead. And that you’d killed him.”

There it was again, the familiar knot twisting around his chest like invisible cords, squeezing his heart and making it hard to breathe. His mind was empty, barriers upon barriers built up like a high-scale prison wall around every corner of his brain. His mind was blank, controlled and silent but his body recognized what his head had refused to. It was grief, that hollow and gut-wrenching pain he was feeling, for the loss of a friend. Albus Dumbledore was dead and he, Severus Snape, had killed him.

”Yes,” Severus managed with a choked noise,”yes I killed him.”

”The Dark Lord wanted _him_ to do it, Severus, and if you killed Dumbledore then that can only mean that Draco has failed. I _need_ you to tell me what happened so that when the Dark Lord questions my son, I will know what to tell him. Please, Severus,” she whispered, giving his hand a squeeze.

Severus pulled away from her, and took the tin from her other hand. He opened it, and picked one of the bigger needles this time and handed it to her. He observed his wound once more and then glanced at Narcissa.

”It was a Hippogriff,” he began and she stared up at him stupidly that Severus felt the corner of his mouth twitch.

”My arm, it was a hippogriff that attacked me. Came out of nowhere. Trying to protect Potter, I bet,” he mused. He stretched his arm out to Narcissa who pushed the skin together so that it closed the gash up.

”You said the small needle wouldn’t leave a scar. What about this one?” she asked.

”I like scars. They remind me of what I am. Sometimes I forget, and then I see the scars and I remember.”

She had known him long enough to not question his odd response. He had always been a strange little boy, even at Hogwarts, and now he was an even stranger man. Any other day she would have asked him what he’d meant but tonight, tonight her son was in danger of being killed and she placed his importance higher than that of herself and Severus.

”Potter was there? He saw you?” Narcissa asked, trying to change the tone of the conversation.

The tip of the needle pierced skin.

”He saw all of us. He’d been with Dumbledore during the attack. Draco managed to bring the Death Eaters into the school, and they cornered the two of them atop the Astronomy Tower...”

Another pierce, and this time accompanied by a short hiss.

“And they didn’t kill Potter?”

”Dumbledore hid him. I didn’t know he was there until after I’d killed the headmaster-“

He had stopped himself. He had called Dumbledore _headmaster_ , and in front of Narcissa too. He had slipped up, and he prayed Narcissa hadn’t noticed.

”And Draco? Didn’t he want to kill Dumbledore?”

There was a pause. Severus hesitated.

”No,” he said, watching relief flood the woman’s face,”no, he didn’t.”

She was already halfway through stitching him up. Severus wished she would hurry up so that he could leave. He wanted to be alone, wanted to soak up the knowledge that the only man that had trusted him was gone. He had to be alone to sieve his grievous thoughts and memories away, and he needed to it before the Dark Lord called them before him.It would be dangerous to face him when he was open and raw and vulnerable. The Dark Lord would take one look at him and see the doubt and regret on Severus’ face.

”I’m sorry, Severus,” Narcissa said after some time. She had reached the final stitch. Severus looked up at her, his eyebrow raised.

”What’re you sorry for?” he asked, his words slowly beginning to slur.

She didn’t say anything at first. She simply stared up into his cold, unblinking eyes. Severus returned her gaze nothing short of impassiveness. The silence was painfully strained, and he could see the hesitation in Narcissa’s face long before she spoke.

”You didn’t want to kill him either.”

It wasn’t a question, he realized. She wasn’t asking him anything, she was telling him. Severus found at the moment he didn’t care whether he was walking into a trap or not, he had to tell someone.

”No,” he said, holding his breath, “no, I didn’t.”

There was a fleeting look of satisfaction in Narcissa’s eyes when she heard his reply. She smiled and turned to watch the fire that had somewhat dimmed now.

”There is not enough words in this world for me to tell you how sorry I am. There is not enough money in the world that I could give to repay you for everything you have done for my family.”

“Everything that I have done, Narcissa, was to save my own skin. It was just fortunate that you’ve managed to benefit greatly from it,” he replied grimly.

At this, Narcissa reached out to intertwine his hand in hers. She smiled fondly at him, her eyes lingering on his face just long enough to spark a gentle warmth in his chest. She was looking at him the way he had wished his mother had looked at him. There was immense kindness and gratitude in her face, and her smile and especially in the way that she was squeezing his fingers. It reminded him that he was here, on this earth still.

”You can lie to yourself all you like, Severus, but you do things not because of self-preservation like the rest of us. When I made you take the Vow, I never expected you to act as you did-I thought the second it came down to my son’s life or your own, you would have chosen to save yourself. I...I was wrong,” she said tearfully.

Severus grazed a thumb across her face to swipe away the tear running down her cheek.

”You killed Albus Dumbledore tonight. You killed a man even though you hadn’t wanted to. You brought my son home, safe and alive. You put your entire life on the line-“

”-Narcissa, stop, please.”

He had pleaded, his voice hoarse. He didn’t want to listen to this, he didn’t want her pity or her sympathy. But most of all, he didn’t want her gratitude. What he had done today, it hadn’t been a favor to her or Draco. He had done it for Dumbledore, he’d done it to finally prove his loyalty to the Dark Lord.

”Go tend to Draco, see if he is awake. He will need food in his belly if he is to be strong enough to face the Dark Lord later.”

Narcissa nodded.

”Severus?”

”Yes, Narcissa?”

She paused.

”Thank you, for everything, really.”

Severus nodded now, his head bobbing awkwardly as he felt his eyes growing heavy. He was so tired, and all he wanted was to close his eyes. There would be plenty time afterwards to curse himself over what he’d done. Yes, he was sure all of his faults and mistakes would still be there after he wakes up later. He watched Narcissa’s figure retreat upstairs and closed his eyes.

 _Albus Dumbledore is dead_ , was his last thought before everything else vanished from sight and the gentle lull of the fire crackling left Severus Snape falling asleep in the chair he sat.


End file.
